


Bring Me Peace (Let Me Carry Your Burden)

by Copper_Nails (Her_Madjesty)



Series: Running Around the Galaxy (Looking For You) [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Car Sex, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), I wouldn't say inappropriate use but probably not the use that was originally intended, PWP, Speeder sex actually, practicing the force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:39:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5928858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Her_Madjesty/pseuds/Copper_Nails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The city-planet of Coruscant is too overwhelming, too lush, too full of life. After years spent alone, it's almost too much for Rey to handle. She finds peace, however, where she'd never have thought to look for it, and with someone she'd never have thought to trust.</p><p>Now with a follow up, "Follow Me to Where I Hide".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me Peace (Let Me Carry Your Burden)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for radiojamming's Swamp Sex Challenge 2k16. I was given the planet of Coruscant to have our duo canoodle on, which was rather ironic, given that the only other piece I was working on at the time was also taking place on Coruscant. Fate? Irony? Who knows. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

The first time she comes to Coruscant, Rey spends two days tucked away in the General’s private suites, too overwhelmed by the sights and sounds to function. The second time is better; she can stand to leave the rooms, if only in small bursts.

The Force, which elsewhere is a soothing balm against her soul, is abuzz here. It tingles beneath her skin, pulling at her until she feels like her head will explode for the wealth of it. She’d stay away from the city planet, if she could, but the General is often needed on Coruscant, and she likes to have Rey with her. Diplomacy, Leia says, is one of many skills a future Jedi should hone. Rey isn’t so sure, but she doesn’t have it in her to argue. She endures the headaches for the General’s sake, careful to keep her complaining to a minimum.

They make a number of trips to the planet over a matter of months, each one seemingly longer than the last. In a way, Rey finds herself becoming acclimated to the city-planet’s endless flow of life. It’s still not easy for her to go outside, but she can manage it if she tries. She retreats to the General’s suites less than she used to, and her stints outside become longer and more controlled. The headaches never truly cease, though. Rey finds herself sitting on her bed for hours at a time, attempting to contain the ever-pulsing planet inside her own head and failing miserably.  

It’s not until her fifth or sixth visit that she finds true relief.

Leia finds her one evening and requests that Rey accompany her out on a brief trip around the city. Rey agrees to go, and somehow finds herself in the Entertainment District, with the General in disguise at her side. They entered a bar that glowing neon informs her is called the Outlander. Leia presses a hand to her arm before slipping into the crowd. Rey watches as she pulls a hood over her head and effectively disappears.

With no instructions to follow, she decides to find a spot on the wall and stay there. She slips into the shadows and watches the crowd with wary eyes, letting the noise wash over her.

It takes her longer than she’d like to realize that the Force has gone quiet. Rey’s eyes widen as peace washes over her. She can still feel the planet there, fluttering beneath her skin, but it’s subdued, almost contained. Rey’s knees go weak with relief. She’s not sure what’s allowing her to have this moment of quiet, but she’s too delighted to care.

A shadow shifts nearby; a dark head looks up. Rey doesn’t notice.

When Leia finds her again, Rey has a blissful smile on her face and is half-slumped against the wall. The General has to half-drag her out of the bar. The return of the buzzing city made Rey want to scream.

Her discovery makes all subsequent trips to Coruscant much more enjoyable. The General never questions her about where she goes, and Rey has yet to inform her. Leia does comment, however, on the new peace Rey seems to have found. Rey smiles in answer, then joins the General in her duties.

She’s stopped counting their trips when the one year anniversary of Starkiller comes around. The bartender at Outlander knows her, and preps her drink when they see her walk into the bar. Rey takes it, gladly, and settles herself in the mental quiet. The bar, on the other hand, is roaring with noise, everyone celebrating a decisive victory for the Republic (or, if not celebrating, using the day as an excuse to drink).

Whatever’s in her glass is just as intoxicating as the peace in her head. Rey drains her glass and requests another soon after.

There’s something linger at the edge of her vision, but she pays it little mind. The bartender hands her new drink across the bar; Rey accepts it, but not before rummaging through her pockets for her credits.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” the bartender says. “Someone’s already covered your drinks tonight.”

“Oh?” Rey raises an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Another regular.” The bartender shrugs. “Don’t know if you’ve ever met him, though.” They nod towards the corner; Rey looks and sees nothing but shadow. She purses her lips as the bartender walks away, then narrows her eyes at her drink. There’s a sliver of suspicion curling in her stomach, but the familiarity overwhelms it. She takes a tentative drink and allows herself to relax.

The crowd around her is bubbling with merriment. Rey’s reminded, at once, of the base on D’Qar. She wonders how everyone there is celebrating tonight. There’s a pang in her heart; she misses her friends. She takes a sip of her drink and winces as it burns down her throat.

The shadows in the corner have moved. Rey shifts a little in her seat, reaching out and brushing over the figure. They’re cool, colder than anything she’s ever felt. The sensation almost takes her breath away.

“You know,” a voice says. “It’s rude to peak without asking permission.”

Any peace Rey felt dies in an instant. She does her best to stay still as Kylo Ren sits down beside her. He’s unmasked, and his usual robes are long abandoned. He looks for all the world a smuggler, sitting next to her with a drink in his hand. Rey feels the Force crackle between them; whatever cool front he fostered has been abandoned, and she can feel the fire raging underneath.

“You’re one to talk,” she snarls.

His mouth curls into a smirk. “You keep coming back here, scavenger,” Kylo says. “And I find myself wondering why. Tonight of all nights, especially. Shouldn’t you be off celebrating with your friends?”

“Shut up,” Rey hisses, her hands trembling. “What are _you_ doing here, and why haven’t you tried to kill me yet?”

Kylo Ren chuckles. The warmth in the noise almost makes Rey drop her drink. “Would you prefer that?” Kylo asks. “I’d rather not cause a scene, but I can indulge you, if you like.”

Rey glances at him. He looks – peaceful, or as peaceful as Kylo Ren can get. The scar she gave him puckers silver across his cheek. She forces herself to look away.

“So what is this?” she asks, keeping her voice down. “We sit here like we don’t know each other, let each other leave, and pretend we never saw each other?”

Kylo Ren shrugs. _Shrugs_. She skims over his consciousness again and is almost startled by what she finds: he’s been here for a while. Kylo Ren, Knight of Ren, is well and truly _drunk_. “I’m not going to kidnap you,” he says, and she can hear the slur in his words (it’s a wonder he stayed disguised for so long.) “I just – wanted to talk to you.”

Rey raises an eyebrow, but takes a sip of her drink. To her surprise, Kylo seems to relax. They sit in silence, watching the crowd and each other. The Force simmers between them, but not like it does when she’s not in the bar; it’s a dull heat instead of an overwhelming buzz.

“You felt it, too, then,” Kylo says.

Rey sighs and sets down her drink.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Kylo tells her. “The first time I came to Coruscant, I thought my head was going to explode. It’s a hotbed of the Force; there are too many people here for it not to be. It’s easy to get lost in the crowd.”

He lingers over the last words, like they’re heavy on his tongue. Rey takes a risk and turns her chair towards him. Their knees brush. Kylo flinches.

“Have you learned to manage it?” she asks, and wonders if she sounds weak.

There’s a glimmer in his dark eyes that’s at once enticing and terrifying. His words from a year ago echo through her brain: _“You need a teacher_.”

Despite everything, here she is, seeking out a lesson.

“I have,” Kylo says. “Would you like me to show you?”

She wants to say yes. She wants to be able to explore Coruscant without the pounding headache; to stay with the General while she attends her meetings. Rey opens her mouth, then hesitates.

Kylo Ren seems to sense the pause, and some of his good humor slips. “Don’t worry,” he says, batting away the apology that springs into her mind. “I wouldn’t trust you, either, if you offered.” He takes a long pull from his drink, leaning his head back until the glass is empty.

“I want to learn,” Rey says, as he sets the glass aside. The words fall out of her and sit between them like heavy stones.

Kylo blinks at her, somehow surprised. “Okay,” he says, after a moment. “Come with me.” His rough hand wraps around her arm as he stands from his seat. Rey barely manages to set her drink down before he’s dragging her through the bar. He keeps his head down, she notices, and his eyes cast towards the shadows.

They find themselves back in his dark corner, even further removed from the crowd. The same suspicious curl rouses itself in Rey’s stomach, but she forces it aside. Kylo’s hand tenses on her arm, then falls and lets her go.

“Alright,” he says, glancing back at her before leaning against the wall. “How much have you been taught about meditation?”

“Enough,” Rey mutters. The look Kylo gives her is thoroughly unimpressed. “Enough!” Rey insists. “I know the basics of how it works.”

“How deep have you gotten?”

Rey hesitates. “I can hold it for an hour before my focus starts to waver.”

Kylo doesn’t snort, like she expects him to, nor does he deride her. Instead, he looks thoughtful. “This’ll be more difficult for you, then,” he says. “But it will help, all the same.”

He reaches out, as though to touch her, then stops. Rey sees the question written into his face and fights down a surge of gratitude. She closes her eyes. Kylo brings his hand to her temple, long fingers tangling in her hair.

She’s shocked once more by a wave of cool. It’s there, in the base of him, as he opens his mind to her; beneath all the fire and lava, there is a place of peace. She feels him wince as she peers closer, and does her best to look away.

“I know you’re familiar with mental shields,” she hears him say, “but managing Coruscant takes a lot more than you’re used to. You’ve got to keep your thickest ones up constantly, or you’re going to lose before you ever begin.” Something ripples through his mind, almost like amusement. “Put your shields together for me,” he orders. “Make them as strong as you can.”

Rey does as she’s instructed. It’s like picturing a glass wall rising up in her mind. She hears Kylo hum his approval as he pokes at her creation.

“You’re leaving weak spots,” he says, before waving the glass away. “Do it again.”

Rey grits her teeth, but gives it another go.

She’s not sure how long they stand there, practicing shielding while the bar pulses around them. When he finally lets her rest, she finds herself almost ready to collapse. She reaches out to catch herself only to find his arms already there.

“Take it easy,” he murmurs, guiding her to a booth. Once he’s set her down, he disappears, returning a moment later with two glasses of water. Rey drinks hers greedily, her head still aching from effort. She feels Kylo watching her, but can’t bring herself to care. She closes her eyes and lets the peace of the bar wash over her.

“Is it easier for you here?” she hears herself ask. When Kylo doesn’t answer, she elaborates. “It’s easier to deal with, here. The noise. The first time I came here, it was like everything went quiet.”

Kylo still doesn’t answer. Rey opens her eyes and looks at him, trying to read his emotions in the planes of his face.

He looks away first. There’s a nudge against her mind: the Force, saturated with him. It takes Rey a moment to understand.

“It was _you_?”

Kylo refuses to look at her. He mutters something into the tabletop, hands twitching on his drink. A surge of irritation is enough to make Rey kick his shin under the table.

“Hey!”

“Was it you?” she asks, pinning him with her stare. He swallows hard but doesn’t look away; she takes the victory for what it is.

“It’s easier –” he murmurs, color racing across his face. “When you’re around, things are – quieter. The first time it happened, it wasn’t on purpose.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that. Rey stares at him, watching as a streak of red bleeds across his cheeks. He’s – he’s embarrassed, and shuffling in his seat, and she’s overcome at once by an emotion she only halfway understands.

Rey doesn’t wait to think things through. She leans across the table and presses her lips to his.

He stills beneath her. A flare of panic shoots through her belly. Rey pulls back, thrown off balance, and looks at her companion with concern.

Kylo Ren, Knight of Ren and Commander of the First Order, looks like she’s decked him. She almost giggles, looking at him, but manages to push the urge aside.

“You alright there?” she asks, her voice no more than a whisper. Kylo lets out a noise like a whimper, then pulls her back to him. The panic in Rey’s belly is soothed as his mouth crashes into hers.

There’s a break in his lips, a divot where her lightsaber once struck him. She feels it dip beneath her mouth, an imperfect crease that she chases with her tongue. Kylo shivers; there’s a hand on her upper arm, drawing her closer. The table becomes an inconvenience; she’s half bent over and itching to vault it. Kylo seems to agree; he’s halfway to his feet when they break apart. He looks at the table before he looks at her and offers it a tremendous glare.

Rey ducks her head to hide a smile, maneuvering her way out of the booth. Then his hand is on her jaw, and he’s pulling her upward.

They sway where they stand, Rey on her toes to properly reach Kylo’s mouth. She’s braced on his arms, their bodies interlocked; the strain on her neck and arms isn’t bad yet, but if they continue like this, it could get painful. Kylo plucks the thought from her head and pulls away. He presses his forehead to hers (and he’s half-hunched over – not for the first time, Rey considers his height as an inconvenience.)  

“I don’t have a room,” he confesses, pressing a kiss to her crown. “But I have a speeder parked out back.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Rey murmurs. She catches his lips once more, reaching up and tangling a hand in his long hair. He moans as she scratches his scalp, his hands roaming over her shoulders, down her back.

“Come on,” he growls. One of his hands stays in the center of her back as he guides her from the bar. Rey finds herself grinning; she knows, without looking up, that he’s glaring at anyone who so much as glances their direction.

“You’re not being subtle,” she chides, as they walk out the door. Some small part of her braces for the rush of the city and is relieved when none of the noise returns. A small (almost unnoticeable) part of her heart softens.

“I’m not trying to be.” Kylo grins. Rey finds herself transfixed by the row of white teeth. A quiet huff breaks through the air; he’s _laughing_. Rey feels her jaw drop.

To her endless amusement, she sees Kylo’s blush return. He clears his throat and nudges her forward, towards one of the many speeders parked at the Outlander’s dock.

His is bright red and old, older than most in the lot. Rey would classify it as an XJ-4, if it was a little bigger.

“After you,” Kylo says, indicating the lonely seats. Rey doesn’t bother opening either of the doors. She hopes in and sits in the center of the two seats, looking for all the world a queen in her domain. Kylo snorts and steps in after her.

“I don’t know how much better this is,” Rey comments, lifting her feet so he can lay down.

“It’s either this or a wall,” Kylo grumbles. “This seemed more comfortable.” He pulls her down on top of him, not bothering to wait before bringing their lips back together.

She feels him do something to the Force while he still has his concentration. It wraps around them like a blanket, buffering the outside world until it’s nothing but a blur. She breaks from his mouth to nuzzle his jaw, her question unspoken but still there in his mind.

“Shield,” he murmurs, hissing as she sucks on his neck. “To keep people from seeing.” He shrugs out of his smuggler’s jacket, muscles rippling beneath her. Rey lets her hands wander, traveling down his chest and under his back. She readjusts her legs, finding purchase on either side of his hips as she settles on him properly. She can feel him, hard beneath her, and it makes her heart tremble. She sucks another bruise into his neck before moving back to his mouth, abandoning gentleness for teeth and tongue. He responds beautifully.

They rid her of her shirt and belt, letting them flop to the speeder floor. Her hair falls out of its buns next, draping over them like a canopy. Kylo runs his hands through it over and over again, babbling something about silk that Rey chooses to ignore. She’s itching to get him out of his shirt, her fingers hungry for the pale planes beneath it. Kylo seems to understand her urge, but lingers, letting his own hands move across her collarbones, down her sternum, until they’re resting on her breasts. Rey groans and presses herself into him, urging him to get the message. To her surprise, she hears him chuckle.

“You’re impatient.”

He pushes himself up on his elbows and kisses her again, biting into her bottom lip until they both taste blood. Rey moans and pushes into him again. He squeezes, gently at first, until her insistence has him trembling. The friction is delicious, and it makes her head spin. He thumbs over her nipples where they peak through her chest wrap, and she buries her keen into his neck.

They eventually shuck his top off; it lands somewhere on the back of the speeder and is followed by her wrap. Rey kisses down his chest, her fingers teasing the trail of dark hair that disappears into his waistband. She hears his breath hitch and lingers there, chasing the shadows that his hipbones make. She presses a kiss to one and hears him bite down a whimper. His erection presses against his pants, larger than she’d expected. She feels a bubble of laughter in her head and knows that it’s his; he’s not sure if he’s being complimented or not.

Nimble fingers undo the bindings holding him together until he can shove the pants down around his ankles. Rey skims a hand over his erection and hears him hiss. There’s a damp patch forming on his underwear; she examines it, almost proud, before running her hand back down his length.

Kylo says her name through gritted teeth and hauls her back to him, his mouth demanding on hers. Rey’s mouth falls open as he moves back to her breasts, his hips pushing up against hers. She breaks their mouths apart for a moment to shove down her leggings before settling atop him again. Her eyelids flutter as he moves his mouth to one of her breast, suckling the nipple and making her squirm.

A hand runs down her arm, lingering on the deltoid. In a brief moment on awareness, Rey does the same. They both have implants imbedded beneath their skin; intended for this purpose, but perhaps not this exact situation.

Kylo’s dark eyes stare up at her, gleaming with some feral light. Then he rids her of her underwear.

Everything becomes a blur, after that. She remembers moaning as his talented fingers stroked her folds, finding her clit and rolling it until she was dizzy with want. She remembers almost tearing his underwear off and demanding, brokenly, that they _get on with it already._ She remembers his chuckle and the way it vibrated through her chest.

He takes his time sliding into her, careful to watch her face for any signs of pain. One finger stays on her clit, moving in slow, languid circles until she thinks she may burst.

She controls the pace, once he’s hilted himself in her. Any patience she had for a slow build is abandoned. He fills her like he’s meant for her, the friction of him entrancing. She hears him moan, feels his hands grip her waist hard enough to bruise, and leans back in to kiss him senseless.

When she comes, his Force shield shivers. She gasps into his mouth, eyes closed, as pleasure rushes through her body. He follows just behind, spilling into her without a second thought. She lays on top of him as they spiral down, their chests heaving. His arms come up to cover her back; she buries her face in his neck.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he murmurs into her hair, his arms tightening around her. “When we go our separate ways, they’re still going to want me to kill you.”

Rey huffs something that could be laughter, if the situation was any different. “Well,” she says, “at least it’s them who want me dead, and not you.”

Kylo doesn’t respond. Rey pushes herself off his chest and looks at him, an eyebrow raised. He looks as confused as she feels, his eyes fixed on the distant stars.

They come apart slowly. Pieces of clothing make their way back to their owners, one at a time, until they’re both dressed and standing awkwardly in front of the speeder. Kylo is refusing to look at her, and somehow that’s more agitating than the eternal buzz of the city.

“Why are you here?” Rey asks. “Should I be worried about assassins finding me on my walk home?”

She sees him crack a smile. “No, no assassins. This is a personal visit.”

Rey waits for him to continue, but he gives her nothing more. He clears his throat and turns his back to her, clambering back into the speeder.

She wants to call out, but the words stick in her throat. Kylo keeps his head down as he starts the speeder’s engine. The silence, once so coveted, is almost overwhelming. Rey turns towards the bar, unwilling to watch him leave.

_Rey_

The tap on her brain is gentle, gentler than she ever thought he could be. She looks over her shoulder and sees him hide a smile.

_I’ll see you again soon._

With that, the speeder rises into the air. Rey follows it upward with her eyes and raises a hand in farewell just before the Knight disappears into the sky.

She notices a message on her comm when she gets back into the bar. Rey orders another drink and tries to ignore the knowing look the bartender gives her. She waits until she has the drink in hand to open the message.

 _Rey,_ the General says. _I’d appreciate it if you came and found me as soon as you received this message. My guards have reported a robbery of my adopted father’s old suites on the planet. Apparently his XJ-2 speeder was among the things taken._

Rey chokes on her drink and tries to fight down her laughter. She senses Kylo, still lingering in her head, and for a moment feels inexplicably fond.

 _I’m on my way back,_ she replies.  _I think I may know where we can start looking._

 


End file.
